


It's All in the Movies

by DarkElements10



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Episode: S01E10 The Long Weekend, Gen, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, Jughead Jones-centric, Memories, One Shot, Protective Jughead Jones, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 15:13:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13033836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkElements10/pseuds/DarkElements10
Summary: [Based on episode, "Chapter Ten: The Lost Weekend."] Jughead never liked making a big deal about his birthday. A night watching movies was all he really needed. It was the easiest way to feel like she was still around.





	It's All in the Movies

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on FF.net under the same username. Originally posted: April 14, 2017

**By: Rhuben**

Maybe if no one mentioned it, no one would remember.

No.

Of course Archie would remember his birthday. He was the only one who ever put forth the effort to celebrate in some way. He had to give his friend some props for that. A trip to the movies was simple.

Just the way he liked it.

Clasping his hands behind his head, Forsythe Pendleton Jones III; who luckily, or unfortunately depending on how you looked at it, was known by his nickname "Jughead", stared up at the ceiling of his darkened room in the Andrews home. He could hear birds chirping from outside his blacked out windows and glanced at the small bit of light that trickled in.

"Happy Birthday to me," he said dully before lifting his pillow and pulling it down over his face. Closing his eyes, he tried to go back to sleep. _Maybe I can just…sleep the day away. It'll be tomorrow before I know it. Just another day in Riverdale._

He didn't always hate his birthday. In fact, there was always one bright spot to look forward to; movies. Now even that was gone and his favorite movie go-er had moved out of Riverdale so he was stuck watching a double feature at The Bijoux by himself. Often times, he could convince himself that if he saw two movies, it was one for him and one for her.

Jellybean Jones (who, also unfortunately was given the birthname Forsythia, and fortunately wanted to start being called "JB") hadn't set foot in Riverdale for ages. Man, he missed his baby sister. She was ten years old now—when did that happen?—an age where she needed a big brother to look out for her. Speaking on the phone wasn't enough, but Riverdale wasn't her home anymore. She didn't have a family in Riverdale anymore.

He could almost picture her now, scrunched in the trunk of the Jones family car as they made their way onto the lot of their favorite local theater. The Twilight Drive-In. Would they even fit in the trunk now? Could they actually afford tickets for a family of four?

She was never scared of squeezing her small body into the tight space, which was made even smaller with the cooler of food shoved into the back. He made sure of that. "It's an adventure," he would whisper to her as she curled into him, giggling. "We're taking a right turn, where do you think we are now?" It was just the two of them, taking turns describing where in the world they could end up and what they would do once they got to the exotic land in their minds.

Once the car would stop, she would be shaking in excitement, whispering, "We're here, we're here" over and over again. She would be out of the trunk, her signature bow and bright gap toothed smile illuminated as the natural light hit her. Her dress would lift and puff around her knees as she spun in happy circles, giggling. As soon as he climbed out of the trunk, she'd jump onto his back, demanding a piggy back ride to the concession stand, and swipe the beanie from his head, planting it on her dark locks.

He remembered her first trip to the Twilight Drive-In. It was his ninth birthday, she was three years old, and she hadn't quite mastered "The Statue Game." If they ever got busted sneaking in, it was because of how unsettled she was; always talking, always moving, attention always jumping from one thing to another. Hopefully once the movie started she would settle down some.

"Jughead, because it's your birthday, you can get whatever you want from the concession stand," his mother had said with a warm smile. At his look of uncertainty, she had placed a kiss to his forehead. After all, they always brought their own snacks. "We've managed to save up some extra money. It's ok."

Taking the bills that had been handed to him, he went with his father, Forsythe Pendleton Jones II—who had the foresight to go by FP, to the concession stand to get their refreshments. Popcorn, soda, hot dogs, candy it was all so mouthwatering and better than any old baloney and mayonnaise sandwich he was tired of eating and that his mother had predictably packed.

Settling into the backseat of the car, Jughead and Jellybean had been tasked to share what little popcorn and candy they could afford. As the time for the movie's start counted down and the previews started, his mother would glance back at the two of them and smile. "Happy Birthday, sweetie," she had said, reaching back to gently squeeze his knee.

"Juggie, birfday." Jellybean looked up at her older brother with a bright smile. Carefully lifting to her feet—teetering dangerously on the car cushion before finding her balance—she placed her sticky hands to his cheeks, pushing the skin upwards forcing him into a strained smile. "Happy!"

Jughead removed her hands from his cheeks and managed a small smile. The light in her eyes and the claps of her small hands pulled a genuine one from him. "That's right, Jellybean," he said, ruffling her hair, "it's my birthday." Bits of popcorn fell from her hair onto her shoulders, the front of her dress, dotting the car seat. He tapped her on the nose and Jellybean giggled. "And you're the only one I want to spend it with."

"Hug, Jug, hug!"

Jughead coughed as Jellybean tightly wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing. Despite the lack of air, Jughead hugged her back, taking in her sickeningly sweet scent. He made a face when her sticky lips pressed to his cheek in a cold and wet—uncomfortably wet—kiss.

Sighing, Jughead removed the pillow from his face and slid his hand into its case, grasping the folded and ripped picture inside. Carefully unfolding it, he held the picture of himself and Jellybean up above his head. The corners of his lips lifted just slightly in a fond smile.

Jughead hoped she was still as happy as she was back then. That would be the greatest birthday gift of all.


End file.
